


Revelations

by bittenfeld



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Demon Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:39:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie accidentally walks in on Ichabod in the middle of heavy sex with an unexpected lover…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelations

Abbie knocked on Ichabod’s door, and called his name. It was late, but she needed to discuss something with him, if he was still awake. When he didn’t respond, she carefully opened the door, intending just to see if he was there or not, or if he was there, if he was sleeping, then she wouldn’t disturb him.

What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

Ichabod and another man were on Ichabod’s bed, both naked, right in the middle of heavy sex. His partner was a big muscular man, bald. The stranger was on his knees on the bed, while Ichabod was in his lap, facing him, arms on the man’s shoulders, knees spread on either side of the man’s hips, obviously penetrated. The man’s hands were holding Ichabod’s waist.

At Abbie’s intrusion, they both turned to look at her. Ichabod’s expression was slightly startled, slightly abashed. But what nearly took the breath from her throat was the stranger’s cold smirking smile, and more than that, eyes that were completely whited out, glistening cold milky white orbs. Yet even though he appeared totally blind, she sensed quite pointedly that he was looking right at her – no, more than that, that he was seeing right _through_ her, right to her soul. And the icy smile widened, and she understood that _he_ knew that she knew.

Feeling her face flush, she embarrassedly blurted out a quick, “sorry!” then slammed the door.

She retreated to the front room and the big chair, where she had left her warm bedtime-milk on the side table.

And started to think. She would be the first to admit she wasn’t judgmental – if Ichabod wanted a friend to help get his mind off other things, hey that wasn’t any of her business. Although up ‘til now he had seemed to only want to stay true to Katrina. And nothing Abbie had noticed so far would have made her suspect that he swung the other way.

But, god that friend of his. Those creepy eyes still haunted her. And that smile that seemed almost… feral… Maybe Ichabod’s taste in men was completely different from hers, or maybe he was just too depressed these days to care, and just needed a quick roll in the hay to take his mind off the grim reality they faced every day. But of all partners… hell. Ichabod was so good-looking, if that’s what he wanted, he could no doubt have his pick of tons of men who would be more than happy to lift his spirits (as well as something else…), so why he would pick that escapee from a creep show….

Well, that wasn’t very fair of her. The guy probably was just some poor fellow nearly-blind with really bad cataracts. And besides, it was Ichabod’s choice, and he was a grown man. Abbie had just been startled to walk in on that, and so her imagination just went overboard, that was all. If Ichabod had a new friend now, that was a good thing. And when they came out, she’d apologize, and invite the man to breakfast.

Funny though, she just realized she couldn’t hear them now. Maybe they had quit after her inopportune intrusion, although she didn’t think either of them would be that shy. And come to think of it, she hadn't heard anything before, either. There had been total silence when she had first knocked on his door. She certainly wouldn’t have entered if she’d heard the kind of rocking and rolling that had obviously been going on.

And for that matter, where had the man come from? She’d been home all evening, and even when she was in the back room, she still would have heard the front door open. And wouldn’t Ichabod have at least introduced the guy? Something wasn’t right. What was going on?

Abruptly she jerked awake in her chair, nearly starting from her seat. Morning sun already spilled brightly across the carpet. How long had she been asleep? Wasn’t it just midnight a moment ago?

From the kitchen she could hear Ichabod rustling about – at least she hoped it was Ichabod. “Hey,” she called out.

Appearing around the corner, Ichabod greeted, “Hello. I’m sorry, did my noise wake you?”

“Umm, no,” she shook her head, feeling a wash of relief. Of course in the light of day, the inconsistencies of a strange dream-tale faded to unimportance. Still she had to snatch a glance down the hallway toward Ichabod’s room just to prove to herself there was no one else there. A little guiltily she looked back up at Ichabod watching her. With a little chuckle she mentioned, hoping to sound casual, “Wow, some dreams can seem pretty real.”

“Yes,” Ichabod agreed, handing her a fresh mug of coffee. Then quietly he amended, “And sometimes they aren’t dreams.”

She frowned, as an unsettling chill whispered over her nerve ends. “What?”

Levelly he watched her as he announced calmly, “You saw what you saw, Abbie.”

Again she glanced down the hall. “Umm, does your friend want breakfast?”

“He’s not here – he’s gone now.”

“Who was he? you didn’t introduce us.”

Half to himself, Ichabod acknowledged, “Oh, of course – you wouldn’t have recognized him. You never saw him before with his head.”

Breath caught in her throat. “What?” she half-gasped, not sure what she had heard. When Ichabod said no more, she blurted, “ _The Horseman_??!! You were screwing with the Horseman ?? Oh my god !!”

“Interesting,” Ichabod noted coolly, “that you would comment on the fact that we were ‘screwing’ as you so colorfully put it, rather than the fact that he appeared to have retrieved his head.”

“His head…” At the sudden realization, her stomach sank and cold lead spread through her veins. Sharply she looked up. “He’s got his head back?”

“No. It was merely an image that he is capable of demonstrating.”

“What’s going on, Ichabod? Look, if you just wanted to fool around, we could have found you someone other than the Horseman.”

Irritation sharpened Ichabod’s tone. “I do not wish to ‘fool around’ – least of all with the Horseman!”

“Then… what was that all about?”

“I… do not wish to discuss it.”

“What?!” she coughed her shock. “Excuse me?”

Ichabod was adamant. “It is with deep shame I… perform such acts. It is most certainly… not proper to discuss with anyone… especially not a lady…”

“Oh, now, wait a minute,” she retorted tautly. “Forget I’m a lady now.”

A sidelong glance at her well-proportioned female figure, and a humorless quirk of lips. “That… would be rather difficult to do.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your wife or your girlfriend or your… ‘betrothed’. I’m your partner. So forget about it. ‘Cause I’m gonna forget your 18th century sensibilities right now. You’re sleeping with the enemy – _our_ enemy – and I need to know why.”

But Ichabod would not be swayed. “I am fighting him in my own way,” was all he would say.

With a roll of eyes, Abbie looked away. “Wow. I know a lot of cheating husbands would like that line.”

Anger flashed. “ _Don’t_ insult me!”

Jerking back as if struck, Abbie apologized, “I’m sorry! Look, it’s making us fight, and I don’t want him to drive a wedge between us.”

With a deep breath, Ichabod nodded.

“At least tell me this,” Abbie insisted, more calmly now. “Please. And don’t be angry. I need to ask for the truth. Are you going over to his side?”

A sharp flinch spasmed through him, and she knew her words had knifed him. But he acknowledged levelly, “No. I will never do that. He and I are bound in some... inexplicable way. I wish to god we were not. But as soon as I am quit of him – as soon as I am able – I intend to kill him… Of course, he intends the same with me.”

* * * * *

 _to be continued_ …


End file.
